


12th Haring

by icylook



Series: Vergil Surana [21]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Birthday Presents, Letters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27973409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icylook/pseuds/icylook
Summary: Vergil's partner is absent on his birthday, but he sent a gift.
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Male Surana, Zevran Arainai/Male Warden
Series: Vergil Surana [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615327
Kudos: 5





	12th Haring

There’s a package waiting for him on his desk, a simple flat wooden box. 

He lets his magic wash over it in search of traps and it comes clear. Though, he doesn’t take off his gloves when he cracks the wax seal, then takes a step back. With a flick of his fingers and use of force magic Vergil lifts the lid and waits for a minute or two. Then, he slowly exhales when nothing happens and cautiously peers in. He frowns. Another package, this one wrapped in cloth with a cream envelope under the twine keeping it neatly together. A note or a letter from the sender. His shoulders relax when he notices a small signature on the paper in the left bottom corner and now he doesn’t hesitate when he reaches for the thing. It isn’t heavy, rather pliable in his hands and he’s guessing there’s some kind of folded fabric inside. But before he opens to check it, he decides to read the letter.

He quickly scans the words, instantly recognizing the handwriting. After he makes sure of the author, he reads it again but slowly. A small smile plays on his lips at some of the phrasing. 

_ My Dear Warden, _

_ Do you miss me? _

_ The hosts of the party I’m currently attending are exceptionally rude and don’t tolerate any suggestions how to end it properly and with grace. Thus, I have to stay behind for a little longer and take out all the trash, so it won’t start smelling any time soon. Also, I got help from unexpected friends as some stains are hard to wash off when doing it alone. You certainly understand that, no? _

_ Every part of me is still attached in its right places, though a piece of my splendid golden locks on the right side is a bit shorter. I’m mourning it greatly and I’m sure you are too upon learning this atrocity. A courtesy of a stray dagger which wielder’s had the gall to bleed on my new undershirt. The manners of some people. _

_ But enough about my adventures, I’d rather spend my time focusing on you and us together. Ferelden must be especially frosty at this time of the year, if my memory doesn’t fail me. You must be wondering what is in the package? Or maybe you’ve been impatient and opened it already. Though, knowing you my dear, you’d chosen to read the letter first. Did I guess right? _

_ I hope that what you find is to your taste. I won’t lie, I’d like to see you in it when we’ll meet in person. It took me some time to find the right seamstress who’d make it just as I pictured. _

_ The thought of you keeps me warm and I hope Ferelden nights aren’t as cold without me there by your side. But you have your way around chill in the air, something I long for during the hottest of days here. I can’t believe that such a short time in the South made me miss the weather there. Unbelievable, yet true. _

_ Please, forgive me for not being here with you as we planned. I’ll make it up to you. I can beg if you’d wish me to. _

_ See you very soon. _

_ Yours,  _

_ Z. _

_ The courier promised haste, so the package should be in your hands at the exact day of celebration. Drink a glass in my name? I know I’ll be saying yours repeatedly as soon as I have a moment to myself. _

The paper closes in at itself as he reaches for the package, but before he unwraps the tied cloth, he removes his thin leather gloves, one finger at a time. They’re elegant yet sturdy and almost undamaged, even with the nearly constant use. Antivan leather is really the best.

The fabric that nearly spills out is cool to the touch and so soft that slightly rougher skin on his fingertips seem to catch on it. He looks at it closely, holding it up for inspection, silently marvelling at the deep ruby colour of the silk. It's a finely made shirt with puffed sleeves that are tapered near wrists and waist, with a straight line of small dark buttons with pearly shine. Each one is slightly different from the other and not perfectly round. They look quite charming, he thinks as he rubs the fine material between his fingers, noticing how the neckline is high enough to hide his throat if he’d wished to button the shirt up. Left open it’d fold nicely around his neck and if he’d decide to miss a few more buttons he’s sure the shirt’s colour would compliment the skin of his chest splendidly. A peek of his clavicles and a subtle gleam of his golden necklace would encourage to glance deeper for more. 

Later, after his bath, he puts the shirt on and checks himself in the mirror. The silk is hugging his frame nicely in all the right places, his dark hair and pale skin a fine contrast to the rich colour of the fabric. It brings out the shade of his eyes perfectly as well. 

The smug grin reflected in the mirror is full of promise.

_ See you very soon. _


End file.
